


Fight Club

by majorhtom



Series: Late Night AU [2]
Category: Fake News RPF, Late Night Host RPF, Real News RPF
Genre: Blood, Closeted Character, College AU, Fighting, Fist Fights, Friends to Enemies to Friends, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Mentions of COVID-19, Mentions of Suicide, Minor Violence, Near Future, mentions of Fox News, no actual suicide, no suicidal thoughts either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28003617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorhtom/pseuds/majorhtom
Summary: “There’s a furious southerner in the quad.” Conan said as he put his cup down on the table and sat down opposite Jon and Stephen.“A southerner?” Jon asked.“Someone from the Deep South.” Conan said. “I just saw him beat the crap out of this guy and he was swearing and everything.”Stephen wants to get to know the mysterious Southerner hanging around, much to Jon’s annoyance.
Relationships: Conan O'Brien & Andy Richter
Series: Late Night AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1019148
Kudos: 1





	Fight Club

“There’s a furious southerner in the quad.” Conan said as he put his cup down on the table and sat down opposite Jon and Stephen. 

“A southerner?” Jon asked. 

“Someone from the Deep South.” Conan said. “I just saw him beat the crap out of this guy and he was swearing and everything.” 

“Did he have a gun?” Stephen asked. 

“No. It was bare-knuckle fighting.” Conan said. “He had such a weird accent. And I’ve never seen him before at all.” 

“Do you think he’s a terrorist?” Stephen asked. He leaned in closer. “A T.R.U.M.P. fan?” He asked lowering his voice to barely a whisper.

“Well, given he sounded like he was from Alabama, I’m going to say ‘yes’. Probably mad about all the litigation.” 

“Just because the ‘T-Word’ is stigmatised-“ Stephen began.

Jon interrupted. “Just call him 45.” 

“Thank god everyone did the right thing there or else we wouldn’t be able to vote in the next election.” Stephen said. 

“Who would you vote for?” Jon asked. “If you could.”

“There-nobody’s announced their candidacy yet.” Conan said. 

“Yeah, that’s why I said ‘if you could’, just pick anyone.” Jon said. 

“Uh...” Conan shrugged. “AOC? Kamala Harris?” 

“I’d go for literally anyone who isn’t Mitch McConnell.” Stephen said.

“Yeah, anyone who isn’t Mitch McConnell is going to be a solid pick.” Jon said. “I mean, unless they’re a white supremacist.”

The door to the student cafe opened and a dishevelled young man walked in. He was wearing a suit (the white shirt seemed to have grass stains and the tie was open), Converse and a particularly angry, but also fearful, expression. 

Conan leaned across the table. “That’s him, that’s the guy.” He said in a low voice.

“He looks like a deer caught in the headlights.” Stephen said. 

Jon nodded in agreement. 

“I’m telling you-you didn’t see him earlier beating on that guy.” Conan said. 

Stephen kept his eyes on the mystery man from ‘Alabama’. His accent was indeed Southern; the deep drawl gave it away instantly. But was he  _really_ from Alabama?

“Stop staring, Stephen.” Jon said, nudging his best friend. “He’s gonna think you want to go out with him.” 

“He might be into guys.” Stephen said. “Well you don’t know, it  _is_ 2021.” 

“Are  _you_ into guys?” Jon asked. 

Stephen shook his head. 

“Then why do you care about his life?” Jon said. “You’re probably never going to see him again.” 

“I don’t know. There’s just-I think there’s something about him. There’s more to his story.” Stephen said. He took his phone from his pocket to check the time. “I’d best be going to class, it starts in a bit.” He said. “I’ll see you guys later. And Conan, try not to miss tonight’s session like you did last time.”

“Hey! I was busy last time!” Conan said. 

Stephen stood up and grabbed his cup. “You’re not busy now.” He went to put the cup in the bin, but bumped into the guy. 

“Watch it!” The guy shouted in his Southern drawl. “I got a hot coffee here-I don’t wanna get burned!” 

“Sorry, I-“

“Look next time!” He snapped before storming out of the cafe.

Stephen followed him. “Hey! Hey, what’s your problem?” 

The guy turned around. “That you won’t leave me alone.” He growled. 

“You don’t have to be so rude-“

“I don’t care. Go take a hike.” 

Stephen frowned at the guy. There was clearly something going on in this guy’s life-maybe his grandma had Alzheimer’s or something and he was her sole carer-so he decided to drop it. And he walked away. 

* * *

As it got deeper into Autumn, Stephen started seeing much more of the mystery Alabaman. Always in a foul temper. One week with a black eye. Another with a bandaged hand. A split lip. A bloody nose. It stood to reason that he was getting into fights. But why, Stephen wanted to know. 

So he approached him. 

“Uh... hey.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Would you like to go and get a coffee or something-“

“Are you asking me out?” The guy said defensively. 

“No! No! I-I’m straight!” Stephen said. “Hundred percent heterosexual. I just thought-“

“You thought  _what_?” The guy asked with a slight snarl.

“I thought you... could do with a friend.” Stephen said. 

“I  _have_ friends-“

“I’ve never seen you with them.”

“They’re work friends.” The guy folded his arms aggressively. 

“Work friends.” Stephen nodded disbelievingly. “Well, I’ll pay for the coffee.” 

The guy frowned at Stephen and stared. “Fine.” 

Stephen led the way to the coffee shop and the guy dawdled slightly behind. Stephen just ignored it. “So... you must have a name, right?” 

“I do.” The guy said. 

“Are you going to tell me?” Stephen asked. 

“No.” The guy said. 

“Alright.” Stephen nodded. “Well, my name is Stephen-“

“I don’t care.”

“Of course you don’t.” Stephen mumbled. “So how old are you?” 

“My age.” 

“What a silly question for me to have asked.” Stephen said sarcastically. “I’m assuming you’re from somewhere and that you didn’t materialise from thin air overnight.”

“You would assume correctly.” The guy said. 

“Are you going to tell me where that is?” 

“No.” 

Stephen let out a sigh. Befriending this guy was going to be harder than he thought.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Eventually they reached the coffee shop and as Stephen opened the door to let the other guy in, he caught a glimpse of a name tag on the guy’s hip. His name was David something. And he worked for Fox News. 

Stephen bit his lip. He knew he had to say something. But maybe he’d wait until after.

After their respective drinks were ordered and paid for, they went out to drink them on the nearby wall. 

“So... I saw your name tag.” Stephen said. “If I worked for Fox News, I’d be pretty cagey as well.” 

“I’m fine!” The guy snapped. 

“You’re not fine.” Stephen said. “And  _that’s_ fine, it totally is.”

“Don’t go snoopin’ in my life!” 

“I’m not-I’m not snooping.” 

The guy stood up and threw his drink to the floor and it splashed everywhere.

Stephen put his drink down on the wall and went to comfort the guy. “It’s okay-“

“Don’t touch me!” He screamed. 

“The pandemic is over-“

“I don’t give a  _fuck_ if the pandemic is over you just don’t touch me!” 

Stephen put his hands up. “I’m not touching you. Look. Look, I’m not touching you.”

The guy took a few shaky breaths before collapsing to the ground in tears. 

Stephen lowered his hands, letting the guy cry. “Are you okay?” He asked gently once the guy had let it all out of his system. “You don’t seem fine or happy.” 

The guy pulled himself from the ground and onto the wall. He wiped his eyes with his sleeves and sniffled. 

“You’re going through some shit right now, aren’t you?” Stephen asked. 

The guy nodded. “I’m not happy.” He said. “I hate my life. Maybe shit’ll be better if I weren’t here.”

“You don’t mean that.” Stephen said. “The world is always better with you-“

“I’m not talking about  _suicide_.” The guy said. “I’m  _literally_ talking about  _here_. New York City. Because I’m fairly certain my dad hates me for moving here. And I know my colleagues all hate me. Fucking Tucker Carlson screaming in my face every three seconds. I’m losing my goddamn mind.” 

“So get out of there.” Stephen said. 

“I can’t.” The guy said. “It’s not that easy.” 

Stephen sighed again. “Can I ask again-what’s your name? Is it David? Your tag says your name’s David-“

“My tag’s wrong.” He said. “Well, no. It’s right. I just... I have never been known as that.” 

“What do you want me to call you then?” Stephen asked. 

“Er-Shepard.” He said. “That’s... that’s my name. It’s what everyone calls me.” 

“Wow. That’s unusual.” Stephen chuckled. “I’d much rather be called Shepard than Stephen. It’s just so dull and ordinary.” 

“You’re the first guy here who’s tried to get to know me.” 

“I try to be friends with everyone.”

“It’s hard, y’know?” 

“What is?” 

“Being screamed at every day. I just can’t take the shouting. And then people here-they see the Fox News thing and they... cause trouble.” 

“Well, Fox has a reputation.” 

Shepard sighed. “Yeah. Don’t I know it.”

“Why work for them?” Stephen asked. 

“Why do anything. I had to get out.” Shepard replied. “Out the frying pan and into the fire, I guess.” 

“I’m sorry.” Stephen said. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Shepard said. “I’m from a backwoods town in Mississippi. Y’ain’t got nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Mississippi?” Stephen raised an eyebrow. “You know, my friends and I all thought you were from Alabama.” 

“Fuck Alabama. And fuck their Crimson Tide.” 

“You really don’t like Alabama, huh.” 

“I don’t like a lot of things, Stephen.”

Stephen looked down at the cup, still on the floor. “Do you want me to buy you another coffee?” 

“Nah.” Shepard shook his head. “I’m good. People might think we’re dating or something.” 

“I’ve got a girlfriend.” Stephen said. 

“Yeah, well I don’t.” Shepard said. “I used to back in Mississippi, but uh... she wasn’t my type. Y’know, I have  _never_ met a girl who’s my type.” 

Stephen frowned and looked at the young man sitting next to him, wondering if he should take that the way he thought he should. Was this guy  _gay_ and working for  _Fox News_? Or was he overthinking it? He thought it best not to ask. 

“Okay. Shepard, it’s been really nice meeting you,” Stephen said as he stood up from the wall, “but I have to get to my next class now.”

“Yeah.” Shepard nodded. “I should... go to work too.” 

“Bye.” Stephen picked up his cup and walked away. He looked back at Shepard and saw the other man had his gaze concentrated to the floor. And he wondered just what was going on inside his head. 

* * *

Stephen sat through his lecture wondering about Shepard, wondering whether he’d be okay or not. When he left, Shepard looked ready to top himself. He got back to the dorm he shared with Jon to find him half lying on his bed working on his laptop. 

“Hey, Stephen.” Jon greeted, not taking his eyes off his work. “How was your day?” 

“I saw that angry guy today.” Stephen said. 

“Yeah? I hope you stayed away from him.” Jon said.

“No.” Stephen said. “I... talked with him and bought him a coffee.” 

Jon sat up more alert and half lowered the lid on his laptop. “Did he fight you?” 

“No.” Stephen sat down on his bed. 

“Do you know his name?” Jon asked. 

“I do. It’s Shepard.” Stephen said. “And he’s not from Alabama, he’s from Mississippi.”

“How do you know this?” 

“He told me.” 

“He offered this information to you  _freely_?” 

Stephen nodded. “Mhm. Yes.” 

“How did you get him to do that without being beaten up?” Jon asked.

“Jon... I think Shepard is the victim.” Stephen said. 

“What do you mean?” 

“He looked so sad when I asked him about his work. He mentioned that he was shouted at by Tucker Carlson-“

“He works for Fox News?” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” Jon shook his head. “ _He’s_ the bad guy. Duh.” 

“He’s the victim of workplace bullying.” Stephen said. “And I think he might be gay. He mentioned girls as being not his type.” 

“He keeps beating people up.” Jon said. 

“Sure, he’s done some bad things, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s also being bullied.” Stephen said.

“I don’t care, he works for Fox News.” Jon said.

“Well, it’s my DnD group and I’ll invite whoever I want into it.” Stephen said. “If you can’t accept that, we can’t be friends anymore.” 

“We  _will_ be friends-“

“No.” Stephen shook his head. “This is about a guy. And he’s suffering. I know pain when I see it. I’m not cutting him out just because he works for Fox News. That’s not right, Jon. It’s not the right thing to do.”

“You don’t know pain-you want to talk about _pain_? My dad walked out on us when I was eleven and I haven’t seen him since-“

“I haven’t seen my dad since I was eleven either, because he died... along with two of my older brothers. So yeah, Jon, I  _do_ know pain.” 

“I... Stephen, I-I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you.” Stephen said. “I didn’t want your pity.”

Jon sighed. He wasn’t sure what to say. 

“This isn’t about me and... this just isn’t about me.” Stephen said quietly. “This is about Shepard.”

“... What happened, Stephen?” Jon asked. “To your dad? And your brothers?”

“I don’t want to tell you when we’re in the middle of an argument.” Stephen said. “It’s not the time to ask. Just because we’re friends, it doesn’t mean you’re entitled to information about me. And honestly... right now, I’m not even sure we’re friends.”

Jon nodded. “Alright. I respect that.” He said. “But I am  _not_ having that psychopath in my friend group.” 

“The friend group that didn’t exist this time last year?” Stephen asked. “Or did you forget that we only became friends because we were assigned roommates? Did you forget that we befriended Conan and Andy because we bumped into them when we were out celebrating that President Biden won the election? Did you forget that  _they_ introduced us to Kimmel and Guillermo? And that  _Kimmel_ introduced us to Fallon and Higgins? Did you forget that we only met Sam and Jason because we were invited onto their new radio show when President Biden was inaugurated? Did you forget that we only met Seth at the student store and he introduced us to Amy and Stefon? Or that we met Trevor at Open Mic night at the coffee shop? Or that we met John because he had a freak out at the quad?” 

Jon said nothing and looked to the ground. 

“We didn’t know any of these guys before. We only socialised with each other because of the pandemic. You were grouchy. A bigger grouch than Oscar.” Stephen said. “I have friends outside of  you and the DnD squad. I  _will_ hang out with Shepard if I want to. Maybe Paul and Amy would like to get to know him.” 

“You’re not  _seriously_ breaking up with me, are you?” Jon asked. 

“I might be.” Stephen said. “If that’s the case, you’d better find a new DM or learn how to DM yourself.” 

“That’s crazy talk!” Jon exclaimed. “What do Paul and Amy have that I don’t?!” 

“That, right now at least, they’re nicer people. Less...  _judgy_.” Stephen said. 

“I don’t judge you when you wake me up early every Sunday to go to church.” Jon said. “I just let you get on with it.” 

“What has my religion got to do with anything?” Stephen asked.

“I don’t know.” Jon admitted. “Maybe Jesus said something about befriending wild idiots who punch the shit out of people. I’m an atheist Jew. I’m not exactly familiar with the works of Jesus and what he was supposed to have preached.”

“I’m done here.” Stephen said. “I just can’t when you’re like this.” He went to open the door. 

“Yeah go.” Jon said. “Go to Paul and Amy.”

“I think I will.” Stephen opened the door and left the dorm.

Jon sat down on his bed and put his head in his hands.

* * *

“This is ridiculous. You can’t _not_ talk to each other.” Conan said. He was sitting at a table inside the coffee shop next to his roommate Andy and opposite Stephen. 

“You  _live_ with each other.” Andy said.

“Actually, I stayed with Paul last night.” Stephen said. “Jon’s in the doghouse.” 

“What are you even fighting about?” Andy asked.

“You know that guy who fights with everyone?” Stephen said. “Jon won’t let me be friends with him, just because he works for Fox News.”

“You’re fighting over a guy who fights with-no wonder you’re fighting.” Conan said. 

“Hang on, the guy works for Fox News?” Andy asked.

“I-I think he’s a victim of circumstance.” Stephen said. “But Jon just won’t have it.” 

“How do you know he works for Fox though?” Conan asked. 

“He just freely told me after I got him a coffee.” Stephen shrugged. “He told me his name was David, but he prefers Shepard, he’s not from Alabama but actually Mississippi and that Tucker Carlson is always shouting at him.” 

“I believe that about Tucker Carlson.” Conan said. “That guy shouts more than-“

“Bill O’Reilly?” Andy offered. 

“Oh yeah, Mr ‘Fuck It, We’ll Do It Live’.” Conan said. 

“How did this guy get working for Fox is the big question.” Andy said. 

“He never told me.” Stephen said. “But he  _definitely_ doesn’t like it there.”

“How do you know? Did he imply it?” Conan asked. 

“No, he outright stated it.” Stephen said. 

“So Jon doesn’t like that the guy-“

“Shepard.”

“Shepard doesn’t like working for Fox, but is working for them anyway.” Conan said. 

“What if he was working for CNN?” Andy asked. 

“Jon doesn’t think much of any cable news. I don’t think he minds... CBS? NBC?” Stephen shrugged. “I don’t fucking know.” 

Into the coffee shop walked Shepard with his head low. 

Stephen turned around. “Hey, Shepard!” He greeted cheerfully. 

“Uh...” 

“Come meet my friends!” 

Conan waved awkwardly while Andy simply smiled. 

Shepard tentatively walked towards Stephen and his table. “Uh... hi.” 

“Hey.” Conan put his hand out. “I’m Conan O’Brien.”

Shepard looked at his hand and didn’t take it. 

“And I’m Andy Richter.” He said. “Conan’s best friend and roommate.” 

“Uh... I’m Shepard... Smith.” 

“That’s an interesting name.” Andy said.

“Can I call you Shep?” Conan asked. 

“Yeah, some people do.” Shepard nodded.

“Come sit down.” Stephen shuffled down the bench. 

“I just wanna grab my coffee-“

“Come on.” 

Shepard sighed and sat down next to Stephen. 

Andy tapped Conan’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

Conan smiled and put his hand on Andy’s. “Not now.” 

Shepard winced slightly. “Are you two...?” 

“They’re not gay.” Stephen said. 

“We’re both straight. But we’re just besties.” Conan said. 

“Must be nice having a best friend.” Shepard mused. 

“Have you never had a best friend before?” Stephen asked. 

“My childhood dog.” Shepard said. “Man’s best friend.”

“It’s okay.” Conan said. “I didn’t have a best friend until I met Andy. I mean I was popular in high school, but with popularity comes nobody wanting to  _really_ be your friend.” 

“And I didn’t have a best friend until I met Conan.” Andy said. “I was always moving around a lot so I didn’t get to know people.” 

“And I’m currently in a fight with my bestie.” Stephen said. “Or at least I  thought he _was_ my bestie.” 

“Paul?” Andy asked. 

“No. _Jon_.” Stephen said. 

“See I was wondering why you’d fight with Paul when you were in a fight with Jon and slept with Paul last night.” Andy said. 

Conan bit his lip and covered his mouth with his hand. “Uh... Andy.” He tried not to laugh. “Did you.... mean to say that?”

Andy folded his arms in indignation. “You  _know_ what I meant.” 

Shepard stared on, not knowing quite what to make of them. 

“They’re always like this.” Stephen said. “You get used to it.”

“If you _want_ to get used to it.” Conan said. 

“What?” Shepard asked. 

“I’m offering to be your friend. You seem like a nice guy.” Conan said. “I mean, besides that guy you beat up.” 

“I only beat him up because he called me something.” Shepard said defensively.

“Like a slur?” Andy asked. 

Shepard shrugged. “I don’t know. But it was  _definitely_ insulting.” 

“We know you work for Fox News too.” Andy said. 

“I’m only there because I  _have_ to be!” Shepard raised his voice defensively. 

“We know.” Conan said. “It’s alright. We don’t hate you.” 

Shepard relaxed slightly. “People usually do.”

“We aren’t most people.” Andy said. “We’re very different from most people, in fact. Stephen’s a massive Tolkien nerd-“

“True.” Stephen said. 

“I’m fat.” Andy said. “Which is my only issue because, well, look at Conan. He’s a lanky, ginger, son of a bitch with transparent skin and a stupid haircut.”

Conan shrugged in satisfaction. “Can’t argue with that.” 

“Isn’t it better to be one of _us_ than one of  _them_?” Andy asked. “The Fox News lot.”

Shepard stood up. “I’ll consider it.” He said quietly. He walked over to the counter to order his drink. 

“What do you think of him?” Stephen asked. 

“There’s definitely more to him than meets the eye.” Andy said. “Also...” he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, “do you think he’s gay?” 

“Oh my god yes.” Stephen said. 

Conan hummed. “I don’t know.”

“I like to think I have pretty good Gaydar. And it’s going up around this guy like a dry tree at a gender reveal party.” Andy said. 

“Nice.” Conan said. “So if you guys think he’s gay... is he closeted?” 

“I think he doesn’t know it himself.” Andy said. 

“I think it’s internalised homophobia.” Stephen said. “On some level, he  does know. But he’s suppressing it.” 

“Why would he do that though?” Conan asked. 

“Conan. Look at who is boss is.” Stephen said. “He works for the craziest nutjobs in all punditry. Tucker Carlson. Sean Hannity. Laura Ingraham. And he was born and raised in Mississippi. Every day all he hears is that being gay is bad. It’s a terrible message. And he’s in emotional turmoil because of it. You should have seen him yesterday. He cried and said that the world would be better without him in it.” 

“Oh yikes.” Andy said

“Yikes indeed.” Conan looked over at Shepard, who was on his phone as he waited his order. “He seems like a nice enough guy though. I don’t know what Jon’s problem with him would be.” 

“Neither do I.” Stephen stood up. “Well, I’m going back to my dorm.” 

“With Jon or Paul?” Andy asked. 

“Jon.” Stephen replied. “I might need to move my stuff to Paul’s if Jon carries on like this trying to control me. I _am_ nineteen years old now. I don’t need to be controlled. Especially not by a guy I only met a year ago.” He picked his cup from the table. “Alright. See you later.” 

“Oh, Stephen, before you go, I think I left my notes at your dorm. Mind if I swing by after my next class to come get them?” Conan asked. 

“Sure.” Stephen said. “Despite Jon being a little prick right now, I’ll let him know.” 

“Cool.” Conan nodded. “I’ll see you in about an hour and a half.” 

Stephen walked out of the coffee shop and threw his cup in a nearby trash can.

* * *

Stephen walked into his dorm; Jon wasn’t there. It’s not that he wanted to leave Jon, it was just that he was his own person and Jon couldn’t control him. So he felt he had no choice but to leave. 

He pulled his suitcase from under his bed and began packing it. His clothes, his Dungeons and Dragons stuff, his books. 

“Stephen.” Jon walked in. “What are you doing?” 

“What does it look like?” Stephen asked. “I’m packing.”

“Family emergency?” Jon asked.

“No.” 

“So you’ve quit college?” 

“... No.” 

“What’s... what’s going on then?” 

“I’m leaving, Jon.” Stephen said. “I’m staying with Paul.” 

“You sound like a scorned lover.” Jon said.

“It’s not funny.” Stephen turned to face Jon. 

“Is this about that guy?” 

“His name’s _Shep_.” 

“Shep? That’s a-that’s a fucking _dog’s_ name.” 

“And no, this isn’t about him.” Stephen said. “This is about _you_ trying to choose my friends for me.” 

“I’m _not_ doing that!” Jon protested. 

“You _are_ though!” Stephen said. “I can be friends with whoever I want!” 

“I don’t want you beaten up by a psychopath!” 

“You’re too controlling!” 

“I’m _not_ controlling!” 

“If this is what you want, fine!” Stephen rolled his sleeves up. “Let’s do this.”

“What?” Jon asked. 

“Yeah.” Stephen put his fists up. “You want a fight, you got one.”

“I’m not going to fight you.” Jon said. 

Stephen relaxed and began to roll his sleeves back down. “Then let me-“

“I’m going to kick your _ass_!” Jon grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it at Stephen, who ducked. 

“Jesus Christ!” Stephen exclaimed. He grabbed a banana peel from the trash and threw it at Jon. “This is what I mean-you’re controlling!”

“You’re an asshole!” 

“ _You’re_ the asshole!” 

Jon’s eye twitched and he pulled his fist back, hitting Stephen in the face. 

Stephen blinked almost in disbelief that Jon would hit him. Then he slapped Jon in the face. 

“Fuck you.” Jon growled. 

“Fuck you too.” Stephen narrowed his eyes and went to punch Jon. 

Jon ducked and kicked Stephen’s shin. 

“Bastard!” Stephen grunted. He punched Jon in the nose. 

The two of them lunged at each other and started hitting one another. 

“What is going on here?” Conan asked as he burst in on Jon and Stephen fist fighting. “Jon-“

Stephen threw a punch at Jon, who ducked out of the way causing the punch toinstead hit Conan in the stomach. 

The punch winded Conan who doubled over, wheezing. 

“You just hit Conan!” Jon shouted, pointing at Conan.

“I wouldn’t have hit Conan if you hadn’t ducked out of the way!” Stephen said. 

“So I’m supposed to just let you hit me, am I?” Jon squared up to Stephen. “Am I?” 

“Yes!” Stephen punched Jon in the nose. 

Jon stumbled backwards. “Fuck you!” He snapped. As Stephen came closer, he punched him in the jaw. 

“Fuck you too, buddy.” Stephen snarled. 

Conan stood upright. “You’re friends! Just stop!” He begged. 

Stephen and Jon took no notice. 

“I swear to god, I will fucking _murder_ you.” Stephen said. 

Conan stepped between the two. “I mean it, you need to stop.” 

Stephen threw another punch at Jon, which Conan again took.

“That’s it.” Conan punched Stephen back, in the face. 

Jon didn’t see that as he reached behind him for the nearest object; a half eaten apple, and threw it at Stephen.

It hit Conan, who turned around and then punched Jon in the face. 

Jon pushed Conan, who then threw Jon to the floor.

Stephen jumped on Conan’s back. “I could do this all day.” He bit Conan’s ear. 

Conan shouted out in pain. “Goddammit!” He stumbled backwards. 

Jon, who had scrambled to his feet, tackled Conan to the floor, toppling both him and Stephen. 

“What the fuck!” Conan exclaimed. 

“Fuck! You!” Jon punched Conan in the face. 

“Get off him!” Stephen pushed Jon down and straddled him while hitting him. 

Conan took a moment to catch his breath and register what was happening before tearing Stephen off Jon. “Stop it!” 

“No!” Stephen flailed his arms, hitting Conan in the eye with his elbow.

“Ah! God!” Conan let go and brought his hand to his eye.

Jon stood up and kicked Stephen to the floor. Then kicked him again in the face. 

“No!” Conan pushed Jon down. 

“Fuck off!” Jon grunted and kicked Conan in the shin. 

“No!” Conan shouted as he kicked Jon in the groin. 

Stephen wrapped himself around Conan’s leg, repeatedly punching him in the thigh. 

Jon crawled over and bit Stephen on the ear, causing Stephen to cry out in pain and let go of Conan. 

Jon and Stephen began wrestling on the floor. Jon started slamming Stephen’s face into the floor and Stephen was whacking Jon in the face with a boot while Conan was trying to break them up. 

“What the _fuck_?!” Stephen’s friend Paul had entered the dorm. “Stop it! Stop it _now_!” He barked. 

The three of them instantly stopped what they were doing and turned to face him, bruised and bloodied. 

“Oh... hey, Paul.” Stephen said breathlessly. He smiled awkwardly from the floor.

“Yeah. Hey.” Jon waved with one hand as his other hand was still pressed up against the side of Stephen’s face. 

Conan fell backwards onto his ass and said nothing. 

“What the _hell_ is all this about?” Paul asked. 

“Okay. There’s this guy-“

“Fighting over a guy-what is this? The Real Househusbands of Manhattan?” Paul asked. “Get a grip!” 

“He wants to be friends with a... guy.” Jon said, finally letting go of Stephen. “I don’t trust him.” 

“Why not? Shep’s nice.” Conan said. 

“Nice guys don’t... they don’t start fights.” Jon said.

“Nice people like you three?” Paul asked.

“I walked in on this madness.” Conan gestured vaguely to Jon and Stephen, who was now sitting up on the floor.

“Hey!” Stephen protested. “I didn’t start this! Jon punched first.” 

“Fuck you!” Jon shouted in Stephen’s face. “I am so fucking _done_ with you right now.” 

“Heyheyhey!” Conan leaned forward to separate the two. 

“Honestly. If you don’t give this Shep guy a chance all it does is make you look like a hypocrite, Jon.” 

“But-“

“And Stephen....” Paul sighed and shook his head. “I thought better of you though, Conan.”

Conan pointed at Jon. “ _He_ threw an apple at my head,” he then pointed at Stephen, “and  _he_ punched me twice.” 

Paul nodded at Conan and motioned to the door. 

Without saying anything further, Conan stood up from the floor and walked out of the door. 

Paul closed the door after him. “Alright. Explain.” 

“There’s a guy who goes around fighting people.” Stephen said. “His name is Shep. He’s a nice guy, you heard Conan say that. But Jon doesn’t want me to be friends with him because he works for Fox News.” 

“Fox News are liars! They got Donald Trump elected!” Jon shouted. “Do you not remember the Longest Four Years? My hair’s going grey because of it!”

“But I think-“ Stephen said loudly over Jon, “that I should be able to be friends with whoever the hell I want and that it’s none of Jonathan’s business-“

“Oh we’re down to  _Jonathan_ now, are we?” Jon snapped. “Two can play at that game, Colber _t_.” He said, furiously pronouncing the ‘t’.

“I will kill you.” Stephen said darkly. 

“Not before I kill you first.” Jon said. “And I’m an atheist so no hell for me.” 

“Guys!” Paul shouted. “Calm the _fuck_ down!” 

“He started it!” 

Jon and Stephen pointed at each other angrily like preschoolers. 

“I don’t care who started this. But you need to sort your problems out like the adults you are.” Paul said. “Jon, you are _twenty_ now.  


“I’m not twenty yet-“

“Fine. You are now nearly in your twenties. You will be at the end of the month. Act like it.” 

“I’m trying to stop him getting hurt-“

“You’re not my parent.” Stephen said. “I can make my own mistakes.” 

“I don’t want him getting beaten up.” Jon said. 

“What do you think you just did?” Paul asked. “Just talk.” He said. “It’s not hard.”

Jon sighed. “Look... maybe I took this too far. You can be friends with whoever you want.”

“Damn right I can, I’m an adult!” Stephen snapped. 

“But you hit _Conan_!” Jon said.

“Yeah I knew he was coming.” Stephen said. “He came for his notes. Shit he forgot his notes!” 

“You _dragged_ Conan into this!” 

“Neither of you should have been fighting.” Paul said. “Do you not want to be friends?”

Jon and Stephen shared a glance. 

Jon peeled himself from the floor. “I’m going to clean myself up.” 

“You know where the first aid kit is.” Stephen said. 

Jon walked into the bathroom. 

Stephen threw his boot to one side. 

“I’m _really_ surprised at you, Stephen.” Paul said. “I didn’t know you had it in you to fight your own friends.” 

“Yeah, well... he hit me first.” Stephen stood up. 

“Do you still want to move in, or...?” Paul asked. 

“I think it’s best I leave Jon alone.” Stephen said. “At least for tonight. I don’t want to be around him and he probably doesn’t want to be around me. As for moving out...” he paused, “we’ll see how it goes.” 

* * *

Now dealing with a nosebleed, Conan staggered back to his dorm. His head was thumping; probably a sign of a concussion, so not a good thing. 

“Oh my god. Conan, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Jordan.” Conan said. 

“You don’t look okay.” Jordan pocketed his phone. 

“I’m _fine_.” Conan repeated. “Just let me into the building.” 

Jordan did as Conan demanded and let him in. 

Conan took the elevator up to his dorm, he didn’t trust himself on the stairs since he was starting to feel a bit dizzy, and let himself into his dorm room where Andy was waiting and reading Tom Sawyer. 

“How did it go?” Andy asked, not looking up from his book. 

“Andy. Can you google where the nearest hospital is? Conan asked. 

“That bad?” Andy chuckled and lowered his book. His eyes widened when he saw the state of his friend. “Jesus what happened to _you_?” 

“Stephen Colbert bit me on the ear.” Conan said. “Now I think I need a tetanus booster. And maybe a CAT Scan because I might have a concussion.” 

Jordan stood in the doorway. “Are you sure you don’t need anything? Like tissues?” 

“I’m _fine_.” Conan said firmly as he shot a Jordan a look. 

Jordan shrugged and continued standing and watching on. 

“Sit down, Conan.” Andy said. 

Conan nodded as best as he could while he was still pinching his nose. And he sat down on his bed. 

“What _happened_ to you?” Andy asked. “This wasn’t all caused by Stephen biting you. I mean you look like you were hit by a truck.”

“I feel like I _was_ hit by a truck.” Conan said. “Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert started fighting. Full on fighting. They were just punching and kicking and throwing things at each other. They turned on me. And I may have turned on them in return. I feel like I walked in on their secret fight club or something-“

“The first rule of fight club is that you don’t talk about fight club.” Jordan said. 

Conan glared at Jordan. “Will you just fuck off?” He asked. 

“Friends care about friends.”

“If you cared about me at all, you’d leave.” 

“Can you just go please, Jordan.” Andy said, politely. He turned to Conan. “I’ll get you to the hospital for that tetanus shot.”

“Thanks.” Conan said. “But before you do that, can you get me a bag of frozen peas or something? I think I have a wicked shiner coming up.” 

Andy lifted Conan’s head to examine his eye and yelped in surprise. 

Conan sighed. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not that bad-“

“Bearing in mind we are in possession of mirrors and I could always take a selfie if I wanted to.” 

“It’s pretty bad.” 

“Great.” Conan said. “I thought as much. I don’t know if it’s from Stephen elbowing me or Jon punching me.” 

Andy sucked through his teeth. “Probably both. It looks really nasty.” 

Conan sighed. “Just get me to the emergency room.” 

* * *

The next day, Jon and Stephen were sitting in the coffee shop. 

Jon had his head down, preferring people not to look at the cuts, bruises and painful welts on his face. Looking would lead to staring. And he had no idea how he was going to hide that from his teammates. 

Stephen had taken an altogether different approach; he’d used his girlfriend’s makeup and concealer. They couldn’t cover the cuts, but they disguised the bruises, especially the shiner. 

“Hey.” Conan sat down with his coffee. “Are you guys over last night?” He asked. He hadn’t bothered hiding his bruised face, black eye and split lip. 

“I guess.” Jon said. 

“Definitely.” Stephen said. 

“You didn’t need to attack each other or me, did you?” Conan said.

“Well, I suppose we needed to get it out of our systems-“ Jon began.

“No, you really _didn’t_.” Conan said. “Stephen, you bit my ear. I had to get a tetanus shot. Thank god your friend Paul burst in when he did. You probably would have killed each other-and me-if he hadn’t.”

Jon frowned in thought. “You were joking about the tetanus jab-“

“I was _not_ joking about the tetanus jab.” Conan scowled as best he could with a swollen eye. “Stephen, who would have told Evie about you killing Jon or Jon killing you?”

“... the police?” Stephen shrugged. “My mother?” 

“I know you guys have your differences.” Conan said. “Hell, Andy and I have had more than one fight. But it’s never ended with either of us bashing each other’s heads in with a boot.” 

“And I only did that because he was smashing my head into the floor.” Stephen said. “It’s a good thing I’m already deaf in that ear because if I wasn’t before, I would be now.” 

“Wait, you’re deaf?” Conan said. 

Jon turned to look inquisitively at Stephen. Like Conan, this information was new to him. 

“In my right ear, yeah.” Stephen said. “No I’m not going to tell you how it happened, that story’s not interesting anyway.” 

“What happened to _you_ guys?” Shepard asked as he approached the table. 

“Oh. Just a little fight.” Conan said. “But really, it’s not your business.”

“I’m a journalist. _Everything’s_ my business.” Shepard said. 

Stephen decided to change the subject. .Do you know how to play Dungeons and Dragons?” He asked. 

Shepard shook his head. “No. I know what it is though. Like orcs and elves and things?”

“Yeah.” Stephen said. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be but sure. Orcs and elves.”

“Would you like to play with us?” Jon asked. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story of how, within the AU, they met Shepard Smith.  
> There are a few references in here to pop culture, not necessarily late night talk show hosts. Some are more obvious than others.  
> Three characters new to the AU are introduced here; Paul, Amy and Jordan, while someone else is mentioned; Evie. I actually always intended for them to be kind of in it. While I wanted the AU to primarily focus on the core DnD group, I also wanted them to have their own lives outside of it and have their own orbiting characters; like how Kimmel has Guillermo, Fallon has Higgins, Shep has Anderson and Rachel etc. Stephen now has Paul, Amy and Evie and Conan has Jordan. It just makes sense.


End file.
